


Soon

by daphnerunning



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Anal Sex, Blackmail, Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albert Maverick knows the truth about what happened to Mr. Legend. He's not the sort of man to let an advantage go to waste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soon

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS.
> 
> Written for t-and-b-anon.livejournal.com. Prompt was exactly this--Maverick knows the truth about Mr. Legend, uses it to blackmail Yuri.

Yuri leaned against the door, eyes closed. A moment of rest; that was all he needed. One quiet moment after dealing with probationers and criminals and the well-intentioned clumsiness of those who called themselves Heroes, before dealing with his mother. 

“Is that Yuri I hear?” 

It was not to be. His mother had heard the soft click of the door, observant when it suited her.

“Dear, come in to dinner,” she called from the kitchen. “I made your favorite. The three of us can eat while we wait for your father.”

His heart sank. There was only one person she’d acknowledge that way, and Yuri was not in the mood to deal with him tonight. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean he could skip it.

He set his briefcase down, then took a seat at the table between his mother and Maverick. “Ah, Yuri,” Maverick said, nodding to the younger man. “Good of you to join us. Your mother and I were just talking about yesterday’s episode.” 

“Mr. Maverick says your father is going to get a special reward soon. Isn’t that nice, dear?”

“I was telling him that myself this morning,” Maverick lied easily. “Have some turnips, Yuri. They’re good for a growing boy like you.”

“I’m a grown man, Mr. Maverick. Don’t you have a TV station to run?”

“Be nice to our guest, dear. Your father doesn’t like it when you’re disrespectful.”

 _Papa doesn’t like anything. He’s dead._ Yuri contemplated saying it outright, but that would please Maverick too much. Then, he could pretend at being the rescuer, just as he’d done fifteen years earlier. 

“Ah!” his mother cried happily, beaming at empty air. “You’re home, dear. Long day at the office?”

Yuri watched her for a moment, chest tight with tension. “Shall we get this over with?”

“But you haven’t touched your dinner."

“I’m not hungry.” He never was, when he knew Maverick was coming. 

“If you’re so eager.” Maverick was indulgent, as if Yuri were a spoiled child he’d decided to favor. “Very well. Get yourself ready. I’ll be up in a moment.”

Yuri turned to give his mother an excuse, but she was still chatting happily away to the ghost in her memory.

It was hard to ignore the prickles up the back of his neck as he ascended the stairs to his room—his old room, not the converted basement he’d turned into his _real_ living area. Maverick didn’t need to know about the basement.

He’d performed the routine so many times it had become just that, a routine. A shower, first. He used the special attachment, made certain he was clean inside and out. Then, the makeup—his own part of the routine. Not even Maverick, who knew full well what was on his face, got to see the scars. 

He hung his suit neatly on its hangar, setting it aside to be dry-cleaned before he wore it again. The hair he wrung out as best as he could, then brushed and blow-dried it enough that it wouldn’t drip all over the carpet. By the time Maverick’s slow footsteps echoed outside his door, Yuri was nearly finished. “Come in,” he called, getting into position.

Maverick walked in, shutting the door but not bothering to lock it. That irked Yuri, but he couldn’t say the other man was wrong. Not once in fifteen years had they been interrupted. 

The older man took his favorite seat, the one straight-backed armchair in the room, and fixed his eyes on Yuri. “Go on, then.”

Every time—every _single_ time, no matter how many times there were—Yuri steeled himself beforehand. This time, it wouldn’t bother him. This time, he wouldn’t feel sick inside. This time, he’d view it simply as a business transaction.

But every time Maverick raised an eyebrow at him, the nausea, the anxiety, the shame returned. Yuri bowed his head, spread so his legs were farther apart, knees resting on the carpet, and started to finger himself.

“Slow. And turn to the side.”

 _Damn, he’s in that kind of mood._ At least Maverick was old now, he thought as he turned to face the wall. Years earlier, Maverick would have already been on him. He circled a finger around his hole, then pushed it in, slick with the lube he’d applied after his shower. It would be so easy to let his powers out, to let the barely-controlled fire lash out from his eyes, to wrap his hands around that flabby neck and roast Maverick to a crisp in a couple seconds flat.

“Good, you’re getting hard.”

At least now, fifteen years later, Maverick was different. Really, Yuri only had his teenage self to blame for his predicament. If he’d been faster to think on his feet, been quicker to realize what he was setting himself up for, if he’d only remembered to check the calendar—

 

*

 

Maverick touched his cheek, and Yuri shivered. He was not going to cry. He wasn’t the weak boy that had let his mother get hurt. He was a man now, and a man paid his debts. A man had obligations.

“Are you afraid?”

“No,” Yuri lied.

“I could leave right now. You don’t have to do this.” 

It was tempting. Maverick would leave, and Yuri wouldn’t have to do as he said. 

Of course, it would only be an hour at most before the police showed up to arrest him for the murder of his father.

 _It’s not a choice at all. Someone has to look after Mama. I’m a man now. It has to be me._ “No. Don’t leave.”

Some dark, small voice in his head whispered, _“You can always kill him afterwards._ ”

He shied away from that. _No! I’m not a monster. I’m not a murderer._

 __

“If you want me to stay,” Maverick said, ignorant of the war in Yuri’s mind, “get down on your knees.” He grabbed Yuri’s hair, forced him down.

“Take it out. Don’t give me that look, Yuri. You’re a teenage boy, you know what it’s for. If you didn’t want to do this, you shouldn’t have left your Papa’s body out where I could see it.”

Fire and tears singed Yuri’s eyes, and he shut them tightly. Only the tears escaped. Blindly, he fumbled with the fastenings on Maverick’s pressed trousers, flinching when he felt the cloth-covered hardness. 

Annoyed with his reluctance, Maverick pulled himself out, rubbing the head across Yuri’s lips, smearing them with clear fluid. “Open. Suck it.” His voice was rough, breathy, as if he’d been waiting a long time to say those words.

 _To me?_ Yuri’s stomach twisted at the idea that his father’s boss had wanted to do this to him, to slide the tip of his cock through Yuri’s lips, for longer than since yesterday. 

 _Yesterday, when he thought he could be strong. He hadn’t meant to hurt his father, hadn’t even thought he could. Papa was a big man, strong, with decades of fighting experience. Yuri was just a weak kid._

 __

Maverick’s cock hit the back of his throat, and Yuri coughed and spluttered. Maverick didn’t stop, thrusting in hard, pulling out, wiping it off on Yuri’s lips and cheeks, thrusting back in.

Yuri couldn’t stop the tears, spilling down to mingle with the other fluids on his face. They didn’t seem to bother Maverick at all. If anything, he sped up, hand jerking Yuri’s hair back and forth, forcing him down farther, heedless of his choking. 

“Good boy,” Maverick grunted, and exploded in Yuri’s mouth. The taste overwhelmed him, and he gagged, coughing and retching, drool and semen overflowing from his lips to land on the carpet of his bedroom.

Maverick stood back, eyes almost glowing, and smiled. “Next time,” he said, as Yuri gasped for air, “I’ll want you to be better than that.”

 

*

 

Maverick was old now, and it took a long time to get him hard. That was why he liked to watch as Yuri stretched himself, liked to have leisurely conversations as he stroked himself slowly to erection. “Tell me you remember the first time.”

“I remember it.”

“Tell me what happened.”

It was a strange affection of Maverick’s, to have Yuri recount past moments. Then again, given what Yuri suspected about his father’s old friend, perhaps that wasn’t strange after all.

 _I’m not stupid, Mr. Maverick. I never was. Papa might have respected you, but he didn’t like you. Papa knew you were hiding something._

 __

“You made me suck you off,” Yuri recited, knowing by now how the ritual went. He added a second finger, scissoring them to open himself up. “You came in my mouth. I spit it out.”

“You’ve learned better by now, haven’t you?”

Yuri avoided pressing that spot deep in himself. He hated getting off with Maverick. “Yes, Mr. Maverick. I’ve learned better.”

“Tell me about the first time I took your ass.”

 

*

 

Maverick thought he was very smart. Well, Yuri was smarter. He’d completed high school in three years, college in two, law school in one. He was smart, and he worked hard, and he noticed things that were _obvious_.

He noticed that Maverick was always rougher with him, always hard and eager, when he returned from seeing that kid he’d adopted. 

This time, nose pressed almost to Maverick’s pubic hair, he noticed the scratches. They raked up one of Maverick’s fleshy thighs, dangerously close to his crotch, and if Yuri hadn’t been deep-throating, he would have smirked.

 _Put up a fight this time, did he? Smart kid._ Yuri never thought of himself as a kid anymore. He was nearly twenty-one, a prosecutor, and people had to take him seriously. 

Maverick grabbed his hair—not unusual, but always unpleasant—and yanked him off, sending him sprawling on the carpet. “Take off your clothes.”

Yuri’s heart stopped for a second. He tensed, not sure whether to comply or flee.

Maverick sneered down at him. “You knew this was coming. Good as you’ve gotten with your mouth, it’s not going to satisfy me forever. Take off your clothes, Yuri. Or do you want me to go to the police with what I know?”

“You’d be implicated, too,” Yuri spat. He knew the law, now. He knew all of them. “You’ve been concealing evidence for years.”

Maverick shrugged. “You threatened me. You’ve already murdered your father. I was worried for the safety of my good friend Origa.” His eyes narrowed. “You know I have evidence. You know I took it. I have influence in this city. Everyone will believe me.”

He leaned close, face only inches from Yuri’s, until that mole between his eyebrows looked the size of a dinner plate. “Even if you wriggle out of the charges, everyone will know you’re Mr. Legend’s son. And Yuri…they’ll never stop talking about it.”

Yuri closed his eyes. He could see it, walking into the courtroom and having the witness ask him about his father, the great man. People coming to his door, asking for autographs. They’d never leave his mother alone, and she was fragile enough as it was.

 _“It would be so easy to kill this man. He would die fast, and you could reclaim all that so-called evidence. He does humanity no good by being a part of it. Kill him, Yuri. Punish his evil.”_

 __

 _No! I don’t do that! I can punish evil legally, as a prosecutor!_

 __

 _“You’ll see. One day, you’ll see.”_

 __

The voice in his head was so loud, so clear now. It whispered seductive, reassuring words as fat fingers stripped off his clothes, turned him onto his hands and knees.

Part of being smart, aside from noticing the obvious, was knowing when to keep his mouth shut. There was so much he wanted to say, but he kept it behind his teeth.

Maverick was already hard again, panting in excitement as he shoved two fingers inside Yuri’s tight hole.

 _He turned eighteen yesterday, didn’t he, Mr. Maverick?_ Yuri would have loved to say that. He’d mentioned the pretty blond boy before, usually when he saw someone else’s tooth marks where his own usually were, and always regretted it. Maverick was good at humiliating him afterwards.

Yuri bit down on the pain, fingers scrabbling at the carpet. Maverick wasn’t gentle, stretching him too fast, and it burned and ached where his fingers—three now—plunged in and out. _Damned if I’ll let him see me cry. Not again._

 __

Not even a minute after the first finger went in, Maverick pulled them out, shoved in his cock instead.

Yuri bit his lip so hard it bled, but he didn’t scream. He was full, aching, the invading pain stabbing into him in time with Maverick’s rough grunts.

“You’re going to remember this forever,” Maverick muttered, holding Yuri’s hips hard enough to bruise as he pounded in. “You’re always going to remember the first time I took your ass.”

 

*

 

“Stop. That’s enough. I don’t want you too loose.”

Yuri stopped, three fingers buried in his ass, head down so Maverick wouldn’t see how his face was flushed. It would be so easy to kill Maverick right now, to pretend to submit and watch him burn. Just like the rest of the city’s scum, he would _burn_.

 _Not yet, Master. Soon. A man this evil will slip up sooner or later, and I’ll be waiting to punish him for you._

 __

Ghostly fingers caressed Yuri’s face, and he shuddered at the touch. He heard Thanatos all the time now. It made his mission so much clearer.

“Come here. Sit on me.”

Because Maverick was old now, didn’t feel like kneeling on the carpet to have his way with Yuri anymore. Yuri doubted that there was a carpet that had been more obsessively steam-cleaned and shampoo’d than the one in his bedroom, anywhere in the world. 

He held his face perfectly still, not even deigning to wince as the head of Maverick’s cock breached his hole. It burned a little—Maverick wouldn’t have liked it otherwise—but he was used to it. He raised and lowered himself, clenching down on Maverick’s cock— _make him finish, make him leave, the faster he comes the faster he gets the hell out of my house._

 __

Maverick chuckled, reaching up to touch Yuri’s hair. “You want me to finish, Yuri?”

Yuri said nothing. _You know I do._

 __

“You know how to get me off quickly. Why not do it? It’s better for both of us, and all it costs is your pride.”

 

*

 

It was a bad day. That was Yuri’s only excuse for how willing he was, how little resistance he put up when Maverick showed up. They had unveiled that statue of his father, his mother had caught him off-guard with a pitcher to the side of his head, and three of his paralegals had been out sick. He had a mountain of paperwork, the voice was getting stronger, and that imbecile Wild Tiger had knocked over a foreign dignitary on the way to catching a criminal. Yuri was tired, he was hurting, and he was lonely.

So when Maverick told him what to do, for once Yuri didn’t protest.

He knelt over Maverick, knees splayed on either side of the man’s hips, and sank down onto his cock. And when Maverick gave instructions, Yuri followed them.

“Tell me you like it. In detail.”

Yuri’s face flushed, and he whispered, “I like it when you f-fuck me. When you fill me up.”

“How many times have I done it? Tell me.”

Yuri braced his hands on Maverick’s still-clothed chest, riding the man. “I don’t know. A lot.” _Fifty-three times. I just don’t want you to think it means enough for me to count._

 __

“You’ve gotten so much better. So good, so good, you know what you’re doing. Like a slut.”

Yuri’s face flushed dark red, and the voice whispered harder in his mind than ever before. _Kill him, wipe the world clean of his filth, never let him get away with that._

 __

“Like a whore. Except all mine.”

Maverick had never been so hard inside him as when he was hissing obscenities.

Yuri was at a loss for words, silently driving his hips down against Maverick’s thrusts, trying to ignore the voice.

Maverick leaned up and grabbed his hair, yanked him down by it until he could say very quietly, “Tell me. Yuri, do it. Ride my cock and tell me you’re my slut.”

Yuri’s fingers curled, his lips drew away from his teeth, and he thought he’d explode with the simmering rage threatening to burst out. “I—I can’t—“

“Ride me. Say, ‘I’m your slut, Papa.’ Do it.”

Yuri flinched away, but even saying the words was too much for Maverick, and he snapped his hips up violently against Yuri’s as he came, flooding Yuri’s ass with his semen.

That was the day Yuri decided that someday, he’d have to kill Maverick.

 

*

 

Maverick was old now, had more self-control. He could wait Yuri out, make the fuck extremely uncomfortable, if he wanted. He’d done it before, when Yuri was rebellious.

With a slow smile, he wrapped one hand around Yuri’s cock, stroking it thoughtfully in time with Yuri’s rocking. “Bored?”

“Somewhat,” Yuri lied. “This isn’t my idea of entertainment.”

“You don’t get to stop until I get off,” Maverick reminded him. “Might as well make the best of it.”

Yuri didn’t want to make the best of it. He wanted to pour fire down Maverick’s throat until the old man exploded like a firework. He wanted to use his crossbow and destroy everything Maverick had ever been. And as Maverick stroked him, as he rocked back against Maverick’s cock, he wanted to come.

Maverick touched his hair again, this time letting his hand rest against Yuri’s face, covering the scar for just a second before sliding down.

He met Maverick’s eyes. It was always unsettling. _Do you know? Do you know it’s me out there, wearing the mask, fighting your beloved false Heroes? Do you know I hate that I drive your ratings up, make you richer? Do you know I’m just waiting for the day you slip up, and I have my proof, and I burn you alive?_

 __

 _Am I right about you?_

 __

 _Are you wondering about me, the way I’m wondering about you?_

 __

“Say it.”

“No. It’s sick.”

“Say it.”

“Go buy a whore if you want to hear it.”

“I’ve already bought you with my silence. Give me what I want. I won’t get off until you say it.”

“I don’t care.” It was a lie. Most of the lube had already rubbed off, and the friction was getting uncomfortable.

“I always get my way in the end, Yuri. You’re only making it worse for yourself.”

Yuri’s ass burned with the repeated intrusion, and his thigh muscles were starting to cramp.  

“You’re acting like a child. Do I need to punish you like one?”

 

*

 

Filthy words chased each other from Maverick’s lips. Yuri shuddered at the pain, but he couldn’t help bucking into the touch. Maverick had kept him on the edge for so long, teasing him with his fingers, rubbing his thumb over the head of Yuri’s cock, reddening his ass with short strikes of his palm. 

 _Missing him? He’s been busy lately, hasn’t he?_

 __

Yuri always knew when Maverick hadn’t seen his adopted son in a while. Those were the only times he cared whether Yuri got off.

“Going to turn you into a mess,” Maverick said, licking his lips. “Make you come all over yourself.”

There was still semen drying on Yuri’s face, in his hair, trickling down his thigh. He was so hard he could hardly breathe, and it felt so good— _wrong_ —good to accept the pleasure, to feel something for once besides nausea and shame.

When Maverick slid into him again, Yuri whimpered. “Please,” he said, not looking up at Maverick, “please, let me come this time.”

“Say it.”

Yuri was too far gone to argue, too wrapped up in the confusing sensations to mind all that much. “P-Papa,” he choked out, wishing he could hide his face. “Papa, please.”

Maverick stroked him hard and fast, and Yuri came with a yelp as his world tilted, went white and shattered into darkness.

 

*

 

“Say it.”

“No.”

“We have a deal, Yuri. Give me a reason not to turn you in.”

“We both know you won’t turn me in.”

“True. But it costs me nothing to tell people Mr. Legend was your father.”

 _I will kill you._

 __

 _Soon, Master._

 __

As always, eventually, Yuri gave Maverick what he wanted. He could be a liar, too. He wrapped his arms around Maverick’s neck, crooned the words the old man wanted to hear, spilled himself over Maverick’s hand with a last buck of his hips.

Then, as he always did, he fetched the cloth from the bathroom and cleaned up his mess. 

 _Do you know? Do you know that when I wipe you down, I’m deciding where to send the first bolt of fire? Do you know that I would never go right for your heart, because I want you to feel it roasting your flesh?_

 __

“That’s enough.” Maverick stood, doing up his fly. “Until next time.”

One day soon, there wouldn’t be a next time.

One day soon, Thanatos would have his way. It wouldn’t be fire that ended Maverick’s life. 

It would be justice.


End file.
